


Vigil

by Misos



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: But it still counts, I can't say who IS in it without spoilers, actually neither of them are really in this fic, if you're okay with spoilers I encourage you to read the author's note for a real summary, in fact I can't say anything without spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 03:45:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10549524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misos/pseuds/Misos
Summary: The two of them together, they look back on a pointless, farcical waste of human life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. Here is my Korekiyo fic, featuring not one appearance from Korekiyo. For those unaware, Korekiyo/Amami has killed me. I hate this.
> 
> I hope this doesn't seem too disjointed. Unlike my previous fic which was done all at once, this one was composed erratically over the past month or so. It's not even as long.
> 
> REAL SUMMARY, BE WARNED, THIS FIC WILL SPOIL THE WHOLE GAME:  
> "One thing wasn't a lie: He had a big sister. _He_ had a little sister, but just the one. And they're still around, even when their brothers, and the narrative surrounding them, have perished."

“Why do I keep coming to these fucking vigils?” Shinguuji muttered under her breath. There was no point, after Korekiyo’s. Perhaps… Perhaps she was just desperate to hear any mention of him in the ones following. Seeking out people gossiping about him so she could take them aside and in no uncertain terms tell them who he _really_ was. Crush the misconceptions one by one. That was the elder sibling’s duty.

At least this was the last one. There would be no more after this. Shirogane and the robot were gone, those other three kids had got out. The school was empty now. Even if there was another game, which the team would be crazy not to do after all the press this one had gotten, she didn’t have to keep up with it. Her little brother sure wasn’t going to be in another one, and she’d be damned if she let so much as her aunt’s dog enter after this. Never again.

“Shinguuji-san?” A soft voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Amami?” Shinguuji raised an eyebrow. “You still come to these?”

“I had to keep up with everything.” There were deep, dark shadows under the girl’s eyes, her long, curly mint hair in disarray. “I knew they were going to come back to him somehow. It was too much to believe he was still… _alive_ , but, you know, there was definitely going to be some big reveal at the end. These plots are getting too predictable.” She laughed, but it was a feeble attempt.

“How’d you feel about the ending?” Shinguuji asked idly. She didn’t feel like getting too deep into the grief aspect. Even here.

Amami fiddled with a strand of her hair nervously. “Well, I mean, after chapter one, it was the best I could hope for. At least this way he won’t be forgotten easily. Now…it’s like he’s more a part of the game than anyone else. His actual real self affected the plot, you know?”

Shinguuji didn’t know. She didn’t care. “The game” meant nothing. Either someone was alive, or someone was dead, and the elder Amami was dead. There was nothing else to it. “Assuming it wasn’t scripted, I just hope it shocked the executives enough to put the series out of its misery. They’ve been beating that dead horse for way too long.”

Amami’s eyes widened. “No, no, that _can’t_ happen! If it ends, it won’t be Danganronpa anymore! It really _would_ just be a game! It has to keep going! That’s its spirit! You kill the series, you kill the souls of everyone who went into it! What would they have died for?”

_Jack shit, exactly like they always have,_ Shinguuji thought, but she couldn’t bring herself to say that at a vigil, in a room full of fellow mourners. “Want to stop by the coffee shop after this and talk things over some more?” she asked instead.

– – –

“…And nearly half of his belongings they sent me were your brother’s merchandise,” Shinguuji concluded, setting her cup of coffee back down on the table. “I hate it but I can’t bring myself to throw it out. Don’t suppose you want it?”

“No, not particularly,” Amami said softly. “But I think you shouldn’t throw it away either. That stuff was important to him, right?”

Shinguuji rolled her eyes. “More like it was his entire life. He couldn’t get enough of that awful series, and your brother was always his favorite. Korekiyo was like a different person talking about him. By which I mean, he talked at all. When he was a kid I could never get him to say more than one sentence at a time.”

“He really was different in real life,” Amami commented.

“ _Yes_ , he _was_.” Shinguuji had a flash of rage again, as always happened when that topic came up. “I tried to stop him, but he went and auditioned anyway, and now the entire nation thinks my stupid brother is Norman Bates.”

Amami nodded slowly. “They did go a little far with his character, I guess. They should’ve at least asked for your permission before making his backstory…like that.”

Shinguuji made a noise of disgust. She didn’t even have any words about _that_.

There was silence for a while, and guilt started building up as Shinguuji realized this so-called conversation was just her ranting. Amami was in no better a position than her, yet she was so subdued in comparison.

“So… Was it hard, him being all famous?” Shinguuji asked. It came out very abruptly, and she could probably have worded that better.

“I don’t know…” Amami seemed to think for a moment. “He never talked about it with me much, and he was always making sure I didn’t get dragged into it. It was scary at first when people at school would come by at lunch to yell at me about how he’d supposedly gotten their favorite character killed, and even worse when they’d ask which ship I thought was better, but I got used to that eventually.”

“Christ,” Shinguuji interjected, “if anyone tried to talk to me like that, I would’ve punched them. In fact, if anyone talks to _you_ like that again, tell me and I’ll punch them.”

Amami appeared quite taken-aback by this. “…Thank you.”

Silence fell for a time. Their coffee was pretty much done. Perhaps they should be thinking of leaving. Shinguuji sat up straight, about to suggest as much.

But Amami, in a rush, cut that short. “There’s one thing I really should tell you! Or, well, no… It’d be easier to…”

“What?” Shinguuji asked impatiently.

Amami appeared uncertain for a moment longer, then seemed to come to a conclusion. “I’ll send you something once I get home.”

“What?” Shinguuji merely repeated.

“You’ll see.”

– – –

A segment of a message the elder Amami had sent his sister? That seemed a bit personal to Shinguuji, but Amami had sent it with assurances that it was relevant to her as well. Either way, she’d rather not.

Best to get it over with, though. Shinguuji settled down in her chair and pressed “play”.

It opened abruptly–Amami’s editing skills could be better. Her brother was in mid-sentence, making the tail end of a gesture with his hand:

“–ird, but then I met the next guy who got accepted! You probably know already if you’ve been keeping up–Shinguuji Korekiyo. Long hair, always wears a mask, very pretty.” A nervous laugh. “That guy. He’s nice. He was shy at first, but, uh, we talked for a while. He has a sister too! He said she doesn’t approve of this whole business, but I guess…I can’t blame her.”

The boy on screen paused. Static flickered across the video.

Then, he continued. “I hope he lives. I wanted to talk to him more, but soon we’re gonna forget everything. That’s why I’ve been telling you all this. And you can’t let anyone else know this, ‘cause the fans'd go crazy, but there’s one thing I really want you to remind me of after. If we both make it out of here… I’m thinking of asking him out.”

The screen went black.

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: Forgot to mention this fic was inspired by page 5 of [this Pixiv log!](http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=61984543)


End file.
